Feb

10

When I was a kid I used to fly on my own from Virginia to Michigan to visit my grandparents. My mom would see me on the plane, my grandparents were waiting in the gate at my destination. Man, what a great feeling it was to step off that plane — usually with a plastic pair of wings pinned to my shirt, maybe accompanied by a friendly stewardess — and see my grandparents standing there, waving and beaming with happiness.

I loved airports back then, and everything about air travel, especially the thrilling stomach-dropping-away sensation as the plane transitions from its fullscale gallop down the runway into the air, everything on the ground tilt-shifting away into model-train-sized scenery. Then the windows filling with greyish-white before revealing the world above — the blue skies, the soft yet impenetrable-looking clouds — in all its alien beauty.

Now, of course, flying anywhere is mostly just a colossal pain in the ass. Bored security people shouting at you, lines of people, the scramble of pulling off your shoes and piling up laptop purse coat bag into trays. No one stands at gates waiting for loved ones any more. Those deliciously salty honey-roasted peanuts are a thing of the past, unless you want to buy the $15.99 version at the newsstand and, of course, risk sending your seat partner into anaphylactic shock the moment you rip open the bag. The newly-horrifying possibility of geese being sucked into the engines like single-brick Duplos crippling a Bissell.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt anything other than resigned irritation when it comes to traveling, but I am actually really looking forward to the trip I’m going on tomorrow, despite the ass-pains involved. I’m heading to DC for the first time in, well, let’s see . . . good lord, 25 years, and I’m excited about everything: seeing the area again, meeting new people, enjoying a spa night, and even sitting on a plane for several hours because holy god I might actually get to read a book or something, and unless I’m spectacularly unlucky I won’t get interrupted two pages in by having to wipe someone’s ass.

Also, I’ve informed JB that since I’ll be away from home for two nights, I expect that upon my return he’ll have trained Dylan to sleep through the night. Since it’s as simple as not going to him when he cries, I’m sure it’ll be NO PROBLEM WHATSOEVER.

(I mock, and yet during my last overnight trip Riley magically figured out how to poop in the toilet, so really, you never know.)

No matter what, I’m always just a little convinced that my plane is going to burst into flames and plummet into a remote mountainside where the survivors will be forced to eat the flesh of the dead in order to survive and despite overcoming great odds and enduring the likely unpleasant taste of human I will tragically perish moments before the rescue helicopter arrives, so if you don’t hear from me again, that’s probably what happened. Don’t judge me for the cannibalism, people, I had no choice. There weren’t even any PEANUTS.

Comments

Maybe I’m crazy, but I still get excited to be in airports. That is a clear sign that I do not get out enough, I think.

I’m going to Blogher in June, so I think I might have to wait till then for husband to sleep-train the kids, who are both STILL SLEEPING IN OUR BED. The 6-year-old is special needs and has been with us for a long time, it started when he was a baby and I was terrified he’d have seizures (long, sad story). Then we sleep trained him. Then our little girl was born. Then we put her in a bed at 2 and suddenly, they were both back in our bed. It’s been about 2 years now, and yeah, it’s bad. Seriously. If anyone has ideas to share about how to get two kids out of your bed, I am open to suggestion.

Crystal on
February 13th, 2009 2:05 am

Linda –

Thought you might like this: dunno if you’ve seen it but it made me basically pee my pants.

3. Inconvenient. You can’t exercise for three days afterward (you’re trying to avoid flushing). You have to wear sunblock AND a hat when you go outside afterward. You might get some red spots on your face for a day or so afterwards.

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